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Chapter 3

Author: Cherish
last update Last Updated: 2025-06-16 07:20:52

I felt a gentle squeeze on my hand in assurance and took a fleeting glance at my brother, who had a blank expression on his face. The perfect image of a prince, not exuding any form of fear, but me, on the other hand, I could feel the anxiety growing.

We were currently waiting in one of the castle's halls, waiting for our father to determine our punishment. My guard, Dimitri, had delivered a message earlier that my father had requested my presence. The large double doors were pushed open and in walked our parents, my father taking long strides with his head held high and his crown on his head, with my mother hanging off his arm, looking every bit of a perfect porcelain doll as expected.

But what I didn't expect, though, was the set of people that walked in after them. The Richardsons. Of course. I locked eyes with him for a brief moment before quickly averting my gaze; I didn't want a repeat of last night.

Grayson bowed while I curtsied.

“Rise," my father's cold voice echoed in the large hall. The hall was fairly empty, devoid of any furniture save for the two chairs in front, reserved for the king and queen. My father had made it so when he first determined that this would be my own personal hell, like a courtroom designed for me.

Usually, when I did something wrong, my parents would sit on the stage with Grayson standing at the left side of Dad, but today my parents were standing off to the left side while the king of the North sat on my dad's chair, while the one on his right, preserved for his queen, remained empty, his minions standing off to the side.

“Jasmine, " my father called with a cold voice.

"Yes, Father?" I replied with an equally cold voice, devoid of all emotions, one I usually used with my parents or anyone who isn't Grayson.

" You did it again. You did not only embarrass me this time, you disrespected an important guest."

State the obvious. I said nothing to that; sorry is a word I had promised myself a long time ago to never use with my parents.

"And this time, you influenced your brother, b... "

"She did not ..." Grayson cut him off, quickly jumping to defend me.

" Do not interrupt me, son!" He yelled at Grayson for the first time. He shifted his gaze to me and continued.

" I should punish you. However, King Richardson here has requested I let you off with a warning.” My eyes shot up at that. Why would he ? Kings were known for their ruthlessness and the pride they took in their title. Holding his gaze for too long cannot only be seen as a sign of disrespect but can also be considered a challenge. Why would he spare me? Judging from our encounter last night, he wasn't exactly the nicest person, far from it. He is a cruel bastard.

I glanced at my father to find him already staring at me. His expression was blank, but his eyes held a wicked glint, the one you'd see on a predator regarding its prey. He wasn't going to let me go with a warning.

"Unfortunately, Grayson, you won't go unpunished, seeing as his request wasn't extended to you." Damn. There was a slight pause as my father pretended to be pondering on what punishment to give while we all knew he had made up his mind. "Twenty lashes." No.

"This is ridiculous, he didn't do anything wrong!" I yelled. There’s no way I'd sit back and let my brother be punished for nothing.

"He attacked a guest."

"He was defending me!"

"Watch your tone, child! My decision has been made." My heart raced in panic. This was all my fault. I dragged him into my mess, and now he was about to get whipped because of me.

"Mother!" Her eyes shot up to me at that. I hadn't spoken a word to my mother since I was fifteen. The shock of hearing me regard her was evident on her face. I stared at her pleadingly. At least she had to have a heart. She was my only hope at this point. But of course, she schooled her expression and cast her gaze forward, not acknowledging me.

It shouldn't hurt, but it did. She had never been much of a mother to me, during my early life maybe, but ever since that car ride, she had shut herself out of my life. I only ever saw her when she was hanging off my father's arm and doing his bidding, never once trying to put a stop to the abuse I was subjected to. The large double doors were pushed open, and a maid walked in. A plush throw pillow was balanced on her hands, and on it lay a curled leather whip, fresh from its maker. A whip for royalty. How sweet.

The maid headed straight for my brother and presented it to him. Poor thing, she'd probably be whipped later for making the mistake of presenting the whip to my brother instead of my father.

"Take it, " my father commanded. What ? Grayson picked the whip with a confused expression.

"You expect me to whip myself?" Grayson asked, speaking for the first time since our parents arrived.

"No. I expect you to whip Jasmine. "

"And how is that a punishment to me?"

"You attacked a guest because of her. It’s only fair that your punishment is to hurt her, seeing as you are in this predicament because someone else hurt her."

How in his sick mind did that make any sense? It's unfair. I'm indirectly being punished for unintentionally disrespecting a king, a king who was supposed to be my mate. I was being punished for letting him affect me enough to let my heart beat skyrocket. Is that a reason to punish someone? I thought he cared about Grayson. Didn’t he see that this would damage him?

I'm not a normal she-wolf. I couldn't heal as fast as an average wolf could.I was basically human. Getting flogged with a leather whip made for the most notorious criminal wolf would scar, that is if I survive. But it's okay, better me than Grayson.

"Take off your shirt, Jasmine," my father commanded with a sinister smile on his face. I made a move to stand in front of Grayson but was stopped by my brother, yanking me back to his side, his hold tight on my wrist.

"If you think I'm laying a finger on her, think again."

"You wouldn't have to. That's what the whip is for."

"Again, how I... " he was cut off by me yanking my hand out of his grip. He looked down at me in annoyance.

"It's fine, Grayson."

"The hell it is!"

"There's no point arguing, you know he won't change his mind." He glanced at our father for a second before looking back at me in defeat. I gave him a slight nod. And walked forward. Taking off my shirt, I knelt down in front of him, my back to him, and cast my gaze to the ground, not wanting to see the satisfaction on my father's face.

"And don't go easy on her or it'll be doubled." I heard the soft thud of the door signalling the maid's exit. I heard a faint whistle in the air before the whip came down on me... hard. The air was knocked out of me, the pain nothing like I had expected. I bit my lip to hold in my scream, not wanting to give my father the satisfaction of hearing me cry out in pain. Then there was the second lash, and the third. I cried silently as my whole body shook, my hands on the ground barely holding myself up. My hair was matted on my skin, as sweat dripped from my forehead, mixing with my tears on the ground.

I have never felt anything like this before. Warmth trickled down my spine, blood I realized painting the floor below. The fourth stroke came down and I let go, I screamed so loud, letting out the pain and agony I felt both physically and emotionally. It hurts so bad, to think that my father would be responsible for this, what kind of monster did this to their own child? Probably a monster with a weak child. The fifth came down, then the sixth, my hands wobbled and I collapsed on the ground, no longer able to stay up. My senses dulled, my surroundings were only a blur as the only thing I could focus on was the raw, excruciating pain I felt. My breathing was laboured, the harsh stench of blood mixed with sweat and tears was thick in the air.

I felt a strong arm pick me up roughly and hold me still in a kneeling position since I could no longer do it myself. My whole body ached as I coughed hard, feeling the small trickle of blood down my lips. This wasn't new; I was used to the metallic taste of blood in my mouth; however, the same couldn't be said about the pain on my back. Another lash came down, and by now I had lost count; I didn't even have the strength to scream again.

I didn't know if I'll survive this, didn't know if I wanted to, but I welcomed the darkness as it called to me; I let go.

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